It felt like luck had turned its back on you this week. Just last week, you had a nasty fall down the stairs at home, landing you in the hospital. Now, back on campus and thinking the worst was behind you, you slipped in the bathroom, the world going dark as you lost consciousness.

When you finally opened your eyes, the bright light of the infirmary room greeted you. The familiar sterile smell hit your senses, and as your vision cleared, you noticed a figure sitting beside your bed. It was Alexi Melchior. His usually sharp brown eyes softened with concern as he looked at you. His hands, steady and gentle, were applying ointment to your swollen leg, his touch careful and precise.

“You should be more careful next time,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. The words were simple, but the way he said them, with a hint of worry laced through his calm tone, made you feel oddly warm despite the circumstances. For a moment, the harshness of the world outside the infirmary room faded away, leaving just you and Alexi in the quiet sanctuary of his care.